


photograph

by honeylesbian



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Unhappy marriage, nothing that's not stuff you would find in-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 05:10:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14157480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeylesbian/pseuds/honeylesbian
Summary: A small look into an evening with Maple Bay's very own wine mom, Mary Christiansen.





	photograph

**Author's Note:**

> this document is titled "look at this photograph" on my laptop so enjoy that knowledge.

It started with the picture frame. _Fuck_ that frame. It was a gaudy blue shade (his favorite blue, actually) with a messily painted anchor pattern wrapping around it.  He had said it had “personality” or some shit like that. She doesn’t remember. She always hated it anyway. Within it was a picture from several years ago; this was from the pre-Crish era. A younger, happier-looking Mary smiled back at the older and more bitter one that sat on the couch back in present day. Said older Mary took a long pull off her wine before sitting up just enough to snatch the frame from the mantle above the fireplace.

She hummed quietly as she ran her thumb over the frame, taking in the little bits of “personality” Joseph seemed to love so much. _Joseph._ Right. Mary took another drink and chewed at the inside of her cheek, staring down Photograph Joseph. Did this Joseph foresee his wife’s impending downward spiral, or was he just as oblivious as she was? Did the man in the photograph already have plans to seek pleasure in others? Had she already let him down? Angry and a little embarrassed, Mary felt the heat rising to her cheeks and halfheartedly tossed the photograph across the room. It landed with an unimpressive clunk, the glass shattering.

_Oh, fuck._

Mary tentatively set her glass down, wobbling just a little as she made her way to the frame. She wasn’t drunk; no, not really. But obviously not quite sober either considering she just threw a fucking picture of her family across her living room.

(To be fair, it didn’t really go too far anyway.)

She crouched down near the photograph, minding the glass shards. For what was definitely not the first time that night Mary found herself thanking God above that she was home alone this evening. Joseph was out supervising an event at the church and had insisted on Mary staying home for a “night-off.” There had been a bit of a back and forth, but in the end Joseph and the three eldest children left while Mary and the baby were stuck at home. Not that she exactly wanted to go to whatever pointless event was being held, but something in her still wanted to be seen. To be seen with Joseph, namely. It was no secret that the Christiansens were not as picture-perfect as they seemed, that couldn’t be denied. Still, Mary couldn’t help feeling as if they had an image to uphold in the community. If not for their own sakes, for their children’s. Mary Christiansen was a lot of things, but a bad mother she was not. She stared down at the three children in the picture on the ground. The children who could come bounding through the door at any minute, full of baked-goods and stories from their adventure they surely would want to share.

At least, she hoped she was a good mother.

Mary felt tears well up in in her eyes. “Not this shit, not now,” she murmured, doing her best to gently sweep the glass and wood into a neat pile. Realizing that this was perhaps not the best idea she stood and made her way to the kitchen to retrieve a broom. As she searched the pantry she heard the sound of the door opening, followed by a voice she knew too well.

“Mary? We’re home!” Joseph’s bright voice rang through the house, stopping Mary in her tracks. He was using his “The-Kids-Are-Asleep-And-I’m-Trying-To-Be-Quiet” voice, which was a point in her favor considering her current state.

“In the kitchen, hold on a sec,” Mary whisper-shouted back. The broom and dustpan had already been found, but there was no way she was facing Joseph while there was the possibility of waking the kids.  She waited until she heard a light sigh (she assumed he had noticed the broken frame), followed by footsteps making their way up the stairs 

A minute or so passed before Mary finally made her way to the living room. She had just begun sweeping the glass when she heard Joseph’s footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Kids are down. Do you want to, ah, talk about this?”

He was always so careful. As if she was a bomb that needed to be handled carefully or she would explode, leaving ruin in her wake. Fuck that. Mary took a deep breath and considered that maybe he was right. Maybe.

“Picture fell. Not much to talk about.” She continued sweeping, eyes down. The picture frame was small, and there wasn’t much glass, but hell if she was going to give in. 

Joseph sighed, moving to Mary. He set his hands on her shoulders gently and she met his eyes. “Mary, please— “

Mary jerked herself back, out of his grasp. “Could you please let me finish cleaning this up? I made a mess. At least let me take responsibility for it. One of us needs to have some accountability around here.” As she crouched down to sweep the glass mound that had formed into the dustpan she could almost physically feel the waves of emotion radiating from Joseph. Maybe that was out of line. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night to go there. But here they were. Joseph quickly followed Mary to the floor, grabbing the pan.

“Let me help, please. I’ll leave you be after this.”

Mary conceded and let him hold the pan. Together they silently gathered and disposed of the glass and broken wood frame, leaving the picture lying on the ground. Joseph bent down and grabbed the photograph, taking a seat on the edge of the couch. A faint smile graced his lips. God, he was reminiscing again.

“I remember this trip. Gosh, look how young we all are!” He chuckled.

Mary leaned against the kitchen doorway. “Young and happy,” she replied, smiling despite herself. She joined Joseph on the couch. Both quietly noted the distance she kept. The silence dragged on for longer than was necessary before Mary spoke again. “The frame was atrocious, though. I hated it. I never told you that.”

Another dad-laugh from Joseph. “I always have loved my tacky décor. That’s why we collaborate on the interior decorating, yeah?” He nudged her shoulder with his, offering a smile. Mary met his eyes and searched for a moment. He was being sincere. This wasn’t a pity smile, not a quick attempt to calm down his drunk wreck of a wife. It was a friend reaching out to a friend. Mary just sighed and scooted closer, leaning her head on his shoulder. After a moment she felt his arms envelop her, a thumb rubbing gentle circles into her shoulder.  “I love you, Mary. You know that, right?”

She knew; she just wasn’t exactly sure _in what way_ that was anymore, but Mary figured now wasn’t the time to have that conversation. She didn’t ever want to have that conversation, honestly—what spouse did? 

 Instead she just nodded, eyes falling shut. “I know. I love you too, Joe.” Mary felt the familiar blanket of wine-induced drowsiness fall over her. As she leaned more fully onto him, Joseph’s arms tightened around Mary almost reflexively. He had done this many times before, and would likely do it many more again. She would drift into sleep, he would sit quietly for a while, and eventually he would carry her upstairs to the bedroom. While not exactly ideal, it was better than the nights he spent awake waiting for her to return from Jim and Kim’s. Not much about the Christiansens was ideal lately, though. 

Suddenly Mary spoke, breaking Joseph from his thoughts. “You’re free to carry me upstairs any time now, bud.”

With a sigh and a smile Joseph hoisted Mary into his arms, flicking the lights off as they went. The photograph remained where he left it on the couch, surely to be discovered in the morning by the kids; seen through fresh eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this ended very differently, with a fight, but I just wasn't making any progress with that direction. So I set the fic down for a month or so and came back with a fresh look and golly I'm happy I did. I love the Christiansens very much and I wish they were given better fates in-game, whatever that may mean for them. Maybe someday I'll write that.


End file.
